


Waspinator's Big Vacation

by miniconsuffrage



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Gen, Time Travel, chicken nuggets, waspinator goes on the cruise he so desperately deserves, waspinator has plans. this is one of them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 16:33:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14698080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miniconsuffrage/pseuds/miniconsuffrage
Summary: Waspinator has been saving up vacation days, and he finally gets a chance to use them.





	Waspinator's Big Vacation

Waspinator spent a lot of time dismembered, squashed, or just in general broken beyond what would normally be repairable. It wasn’t something he planned for, but it was something he’d come to accept. And all that time trying to reassemble himself meant that he also had a lot of time to think. He reflected on his life, and on how he’d gotten to this point. He thought about his mortality (or lack thereof) and of the friends (nominally) they’d lost along the way.

Mostly, though, Waspinator thought about how nice it would be to take a break from fighting, even for a little while.

Even so, it was only during his most recent dismemberment, as he searched for the pieces of his wings and dragged himself back to the Predacon ship, that he remembered his accumulating vacation days. Once he’d spent some time in the CR chamber and was back in one piece, he checked what they had left of the ship’s database. Sometimes Waspinator forgot how long they’d been stuck on this planet, but as far as he could tell, it looked like he should have enough vacation saved up to go away for a little while.

Waspinator’s spirits rose, and possibilities flashed through his mind. Where would he go? What would he do first? This was so exciting.

First, though, he needed to talk to Megatron.

* * *

 

It took some searching to locate Megatron, but eventually he found him, and most of the other Predacons, in the bowels of the base, where Tarantulas was hooking up some sort of new invention or other at Megatron’s order and showing it off. They always left Waspinator out of everything.

“Megatron?” Waspinator called as he approached. “Waspinator has something to discuss.”

“Not now,” Megatron snapped. “Go on, Tarantulas.”

“Just another few moments,” Tarantulas answered, which to Waspinator meant he could continue with his request.

He cleared his throat. “Waspinator was thinking he would like to use some of his vacation time,” he said.

Megatron turned to look at him. “Excuse me?”

With the full force of Megatron’s glare on Waspinator, he shrunk back a little. “Waspinator has been saving vacation days since before Predacons crashed here,” he explained. “Waspinator wants to use them now. It is in Waspinator’s contract.”

Quickstrike peeked around Megatron. “Contract?”

Megatron narrowed his eyes at Waspinator. “We are  _ marooned on a primitive planet _ ,” Megatron growled. “ _ No _ , there will be no vacations.”

“Waspinator’s contract said nothing about primitive planets,” Waspinator pointed out.

“ _ I _ didn’t sign a contract,” Quickstrike protested.

“I don’t care,” Megatron said. “No vacations. Now, both of you, help Tarantulas move that piece of shielding.”

Discouraged, Waspinator did as he was told. It would only make things worse if he didn’t. He’d gotten his hopes up for nothing. 

He didn’t know what this thing Tarantulas made was for, and at that moment he didn’t really care. The shielding was a big domed piece of metal, and it was heavy—he and Quickstrike struggled to lift it. Tarantulas had them move it across the room, over to a device with wheels that looked like it was probably built to be rolled out of the base once it was finished. As he walked backwards across the room, Waspinator was looking at the thing, rather than the floor. And Tarantulas had left some thick cables laying around.

Waspinator tripped in a spectacular fashion. Pushed down by the weight of the shielding, he fell into a stack of crates filled with heavy tools, which in turn tipped over and fell on top of himself and Tarantulas’s new invention. A wrench got caught in a glowy bit and showered sparks everywhere, which then started a fire. 

Tarantulas scrambled to unplug the machine and put the fire out as Waspinator struggled to get out from under the dome. It was crushing his torso.

“Look what you’ve done!” Megatron bellowed, and turned to Tarantulas. “How soon can you get it back in working order?”

Tarantulas hummed as he checked the machine. “Maybe a day or two?”

Megatron growled and spun back around to Waspinator. “Fine. You want a  _ vacation _ , yes? Fine!” he said. “Get out so that you don’t cause any more problems.”

“Really?” Waspinator asked, pausing in his struggles for just a moment.

“Go, before I change my mind,” Megatron said, low and dangerous.

Of course, no one gave him any help getting out. No one ever helped Waspinator with anything. But that was okay—after another quick stint in the CR chamber, he was going on vacation!

* * *

 

Waspinator didn’t have much to pack. Since the Darksyde was stolen, none of them really had any personal possessions except what they’d had on their person when they left. Waspinator had collected a few things since the crash, though. Rocks that he liked, mostly, that reminded him of something from home or that he liked the color and shape of. He threw his favorites into a bag, although he didn’t fill it up. He hoped he’d find more during his vacation, and he wanted to make sure he had space to bring them back with him.

And then, he left! He transformed to beast mode, grabbed the bag, and took off. It was heavy, but not even a bag full of rocks could weigh him down. He was finally free! He had the whole planet open to him!

Well, except wherever the Maximals were. The whole planet aside from there.

Waspinator flew high into the air so that he could get a better view to help him decide where to go first. This planet had such a wide and varied geography. But as soon as he caught sight of it, Waspinator knew where he wanted to go.

A few days relaxing at the beach sounded like paradise.

The beach he’d chosen was quiet and scenic, the perfect place to kick off his vacation. His scanners showed an unusually high concentration of energon in the area, but he would have been stuck in beast mode either way, so this was no hardship. 

Waspinator flew in close to the ground, and was about to land when he noticed something strange in the water. It swirled around in a big circle just away from the beach, constantly moving and turning and ending in…. well, Waspinator didn’t know what was happening in the middle. He did see pieces of energon crystals jutting up out of the water surrounding the swirl.

He realized too late that he’d gotten too close—out of nowhere, a force started tugging on him. That force combined with his own suitcase succeeded in pulling him down, closer and closer to the swirl, and he wasn’t willing to let go of the bag. He struggled with everything he had, but within seconds he was in the water.

It pulled him down farther, even as he flailed and tried to grab hold of something. The rapids made it nearly impossible to see, but he could see the light of the surface get farther and farther away, and could feel himself going farther and farther down, until finally, everything went black.

When Waspinator came to, he was back on the beach, on his back and staring up at a clear blue sky. He jumped up and scanned the beach for his suitcase, and—there it was, not far away. He scrambled over to it, and then felt ready to take stock.

As soon as he actually looked around, he realized he was in a very different world than the one he’d just been in moments ago.

The wilderness had all but disappeared. In its place, off in the distance, there were buildings tall enough to rival some on Cybertron. More worryingly, there on the beach with him were…. humans, he was pretty sure. Not that he’d seen humans like this in person, but they  _ looked _ like the ones in the pictures. They were less clothed than in the pictures, but they sure weren’t the protohumans they’d run into a few times.

They were also staring at him and pointing.

“Hello?” Waspinator called out weakly. “Waspinator comes in peace.”

That was no good; they backed further away. This was not how Waspinator had envisioned his vacation going.

Well, that was fine. Waspinator could handle himself. He just needed to find someone willing to talk to him, who might be able to tell him where and when he was.

He took hold of his suitcase and tried to fly, but one of his wings had been bent at an odd angle in the ordeal, and now it was uncomfortable to fly on it. So, instead, he walked.

Away from the beach, there was a wooden road and stalls of stores the humans had set up. It was a lively place, but everyone shied away and got out of his path as he approached. “Hello? Waspinator wants to talk,” he called, but he had no luck.

As he dragged his bag behind him, something caught his eye even amongst the bright colors that he had grown so unused to seeing on prehistoric Earth. A poster as big as he was, with an advertisement on it—it had a few pictures, of humans relaxing and enjoying themselves, and then what looked like a huge water craft. Next to it were words: The Next Best Thing to Paradise.

Waspinator couldn’t read those words, but something about the image drew him in—he was transfixed. He wanted very much to investigate further. 

“Uh, excuse me?”

Waspinator turned, and found a human standing apart from him, but definitely talking to him. He wore some kind of uniform and optic coverings. “Yes?” Waspinator asked.

The human looked worried, if Waspinator was reading his facial expressions correctly. “Are you… an Autobot?”

“No!” Waspinator said quickly. An Autobot was possibly the farthest thing from what he was, aside from other species.

But that might have been the wrong thing to say, because the human took a hesitant step back. “You’re a Decepticon?” he asked, alarmed.

“No,” Waspinator said again. “Waspinator is a Predacon.”

The human looked at a lost for words. “Uh… Is that some other kind of alien?” he asked.

“Waspinator is Cybertronian,” he responded. “Waspinator does not fight Autobots or Decepticons.”

That left the human scratching his head. “Huh. I thought there were only two sides,” he muttered. “I guess… If you aren’t causing any trouble, I can’t really take you in.”

This was the perfect time to get some information. “What earth year is it?” he asked.

“It’s 2014,” the human frowned. “Did you just get here or something?”

Waspinator beamed, but the human didn’t seem to understand the expression. “Waspinator is here for vacation,” he said happily. He pointed to the poster. “Where is this human vessel?” 

“Oh, that’s just at the docks, down the road a ways,” he said, and pointed. “You going on a cruise?”

“Waspinator is going on a cruise,” Waspinator agreed, and began walking in the direction the human had pointed him in.

“...Well, have a good vacation, I guess,” the man said, but Waspinator wasn’t paying him any mind anymore. He was focused on what a good time he was about to have.

* * *

 

It wasn’t just a trick from the picture—the vessel was huge. He knew that humans had managed to make big space ships in his time and were happily interacting with the larger galaxy, but this felt like a much more primitive time, and Waspinator was surprised to see it. It was big and white and shiny, and Waspinator couldn’t wait to board and begin relaxing.

He found a line of humans, waiting to be given entrance. It was too bad he couldn’t just skip it and fly aboard, but since that wasn’t possible, he got in line with the others. Many of the humans, upon seeing him, moved out of the way, which ultimately led him to the front of the line in no time. Maybe he and the Predacons had misjudged humanity—they were being so kind! He appreciated the gesture greatly.

The human who seemed to be in charge of letting people aboard the vessel was holding a small datapad, and when she looked up from it to see him she gasped. “Waspinator is going on a cruise,” he told her cheerfully.

“Uh,” she said. “Um.”

“Waspinator can go aboard?” he asked.

“I, uh,” the human said. “Are you on the list? What’s your name?”

“Waspinator,” Waspinator answered.

She looked at him blankly. “Can I…. see some identification?”

To show her that, Waspinator would need to transform back from beast mode. “Earth in year 2014 not covered in unstable energon?” he asked.

She didn’t answer that, just stared at him. Well, transforming for a little while wouldn’t hurt. He set his bag down and transformed, causing all the humans around him to jump back some. The human with the datapad looked shocked. He opened a display panel on his wrist which showed his name and serial number, and held it out for her to see.

“Oh,” she said, staring at it uncomprehendingly. She looked back at her datapad. “Waspinator, you said?”

He nodded. It was right there in writing, but maybe humans had trouble with Cybertronian alphabets.

“Well, I… I have someone named Wes on here,” she said. “Wes Pinacho…?”

“Waspinator,” Waspinator corrected.

She nodded hesitantly. “I guess it’s a misprint,” she said. She had box of folders at her side, and she thumbed through them until she found the one she wanted. Out of it she produced a piece of plastic on a lanyard. She took a marker, crossed out the letters and wrote something else on it , and then put the lanyard around his neck. “This is your key. It opens all the doors, and you’ll use it to make purchases. We have your credit card on file, so there’s no need to worry about carrying around money with you while you’re on board,” she said. That was very helpful, since Waspinator didn’t have any money. 

She took something else out of the folder and tied it around the handle of his bag, and then gave the folder to him. “We’ll take your bag and have it delivered to your room. All the information you need is in this folder, including a map, and we’re having an orientation gathering this evening at 7pm which you should attend,” she said. “If you have any questions, any of our crew will be happy to help you. On behalf of everyone on The Cruise Ship™, we hope you have a wonderful voyage.”

Waspinator was giddy—he’d never experienced something this luxurious before. He set his bag down on the platform she indicated, with all the other bags, content to let them handle it as it had gotten heavy, and stepped onto the small bridge that led him to his dream vacation.

* * *

 

The information packet wasn’t much help, since Waspinator couldn’t read it, or any of the labels of the maps. That didn’t deter him—he just flagged down startled crewmembers and asked them where to go. The orientation was very informative. There was so much on this cruise ship that he had no idea what to do first.

By the time it was over, the sun had set, and they were out at sea now. Waspinator went out to the deck to just take it all in. The stars in the sky, the dark waters below, and the lights from the vessel glinting off the waves. He had a good feeling about this trip. He was going to be so relaxed. He would come return to the Predacons a new mech (if he found a way to return—but that wasn’t a very relaxing thought, so he discarded it). He would learn new games, have a good time, maybe even make some friends. That would be nice.

His reveries were broken by unfamiliar sounds coming from the middle of the deck. He turned and found that, on a stage, some humans wearing matching clothing had come together with what could only be foreign-looking musical instruments and were playing together. Waspinator remembered, suddenly, that the human at the orientation had mentioned a concert.

On Cybertron, only the richest and fanciest could afford to attend music performed live, and here, Waspinator could just walk over and enjoy it himself! He was delighted.

There were chairs positioned around small tables where humans had started to gather. Waspinator picked an empty chair at a table that had two other humans already sitting at it. They looked incredibly startled to see him, and then even more so when he tried to sit down and broke the chair, ending up flat on his back on the floor. While the music kept going, many other humans turned to see what the commotion had been about. The two people at his table got up and moved as Waspinator recovered.

So, the chairs couldn’t hold him. That was fine—Waspinator could see just fine from the floor. He didn’t worry too much about his two potential friends leaving, either. These humans had never seen anything like Waspinator before, being much more refined and advanced than the clunky and large Autobots and Decepticons living in this time. As the cruise went on, he was sure his fellow cruise-goers would warm up to him.

Waspinator didn’t understand the music, but that didn’t stop him from enjoying the whole thing. He especially liked studying the instruments the humans were playing, and trying to assign the sounds he was hearing with what he could see. It was fascinating what the humans had managed to create, when they were relegated to inferior organic materials and whatever else they could find on this planet. 

The musicians all bowed when they were finished, and Waspinator joined the audience in clapping for them. Then the people in chairs started to make their exits.

Waspinator wanted a closer look at the instruments. He stood to his full height and made his way over to the stage, a few humans scurrying out of his way as he did so. Many of the musicians were still there, putting their instruments in cases. Waspinator took a step up onto the slightly raised platform.

His foot went right through it, and down to the deck again. It made a loud crunching sound, which startled the musicians. The closest one to Waspinator whirled around and was so surprised to see him that she dropped her instrument, a big… wooden thing with strings on it. It was taller than she was, and made a loud noise when it crashed to the floor.

The human who dropped it was silent, but another close-by spoke. “Hey! You made her drop her bass,” the second human said angrily.

“Waspinator is sorry,” he said quickly. That certainly hadn’t been his intention. His foot was still stuck in the platform, but he bent down to pick up the instrument so that he could hand it back. Before he could, its owner swiped it up and moved back. Waspinator hadn’t been expecting that, and lost his balance. He put out both his hands to catch himself, and they also plunged through the stage.

“Oops,” Waspinator said. The musicians were all giving him uncharitable looks, so he figured he should probably go. He extracted both his hands and then his foot, shaking off the bits of wood that had gotten in his joints, and went to find his room.

It was below deck, of course. He waited for an elevator, and as soon as he made to step inside one, the previous occupants rushed out. As soon as he was standing in it, the whole thing sagged a few feet. He pressed the button for the floor he wanted and waited, but nothing happened. 

A few moments later, one of the crewmembers approached, and then did a double take when she saw what had happened. “Um… Excuse me?” she asked.

“Waspinator is going to his room,” Waspinator said. “Level 4.”

The human hesitated. “That elevator isn’t going anywhere. It… It looks like it’s broken,” she said. “If you wait just a few minutes, a maintenance team will be here to help you get out.”

Well, if that was what was going on, Waspinator didn’t need help. The space between the door and the ceiling of the elevator was too small for him to crawl through, but that didn’t mean he needed help. He took out his blaster and shot a few times into the ceiling, making a hole big enough for him to climb through. He didn’t notice the screams as he got back on the deck, but he did notice the crewmember standing way back, clutching her chest.

“Waspinator is fine,” he said. It was so touching for her to be worried about him.

The crewmember straightened herself out. “Don’t do that again,” she said weakly. “I’m pretty sure we have a no guns policy on board.”

Waspinator nodded. He hadn’t realized that. “Waspinator will respect humans’ customs,” he assured her. From now on he would be taking the stairs. 

He asked two humans for help finding his room. The second one circled it on his map. He used the card around his neck to open the lock, and there it was—a space that was all his own. He had a place to sleep, a little table, a media entertainment system, a window, a funny-looking washrack all to himself (which, admittedly, would be a squeeze height-wise if he wasn’t in beast mode), and a few things he didn’t even know the purpose of. And all of it was all his! This human-sized room had more space and privacy than he had even back at the Predacon base. 

He was so excited by all this, he took a few minutes just to explore what was there. He opened all the drawers, pressed all the buttons, twisted all the knobs. It didn’t take long to figure out how to work the entertainment system. It was simple, but Waspinator flipped through channels and found plenty of fascinating things to watch. It was a good thing, too—since the humans recharged during the dark hours, there wasn’t much going on on the cruise until the morning. 

Waspinator transformed to beast mode to get into a more comfortable position among the blankets and pillows he’d carefully positioned, and spent the whole night watching human entertainment programs. Maybe he would learn something about humans he could use to help make a friend.

* * *

 

Morning snuck up on him. Time just flew by, consuming human entertainment! He really thought Cybertron was missing out by not having this stuff. It was too bad he couldn’t take it with him. Maybe he could put the entertainment system in his bag… 

A thought struck him, that he hadn’t noticed before. Waspinator had searched the entire room, and hadn’t seen his bag anywhere.

Suddenly he was worried for his rock collection. The human with the datapad had said the bags would be delivered to their rooms, didn’t she? His was nowhere to be seen. Where could it be?

He powered down the entertainment system and emerged from his room in root mode with his key card and his map of the ship. He needed to find the information booth.

The humans there looked slightly less surprised to see him than the crew had been the day before. “Waspinator’s bag is not in his room,” he said.

The human frowned. “Can I see your card?” he asked.

Waspinator passed it over, and he scanned it and handed it back. The human pushed a few buttons on his computer. “Well, we have it confirmed that you turned one in,” he said. “You’re sure it isn’t in your room?”

“Waspinator is sure,” Waspinator answered.

The human had some people go look in the cargo hold while Waspinator waited. They looked everywhere, and ultimately told him they couldn’t find it. They would call back to the docks and see if they had left it behind, and they would let him know if they found it. But, as far as Waspinator knew, the bag was gone forever.

He grappled with a sense of loss as he wandered the halls of the vessel below deck. Waspinator hadn’t  _ needed _ anything in that bag, but… He really liked what he’d collected. He would miss them. There were always other rocks, but it just wasn’t the same. 

As he wandered, he happened to stumble across a big room full of tables and interesting smells. This must be the refueling area, but it was much more lavishly decorated than any sort of mess hall Waspinator had seen in person. This cruise ship really was the height of luxury… even if they couldn’t manage to keep track of one bag.

The interesting colors and scents drew him in. He hadn’t considered how he would refuel while he was here. He doubted they served energon, but Waspinator was also able to consume earth creatures for food. None of them liked doing it, aside from Tarantulas—they tasted strange, and eating that way was much less energy efficient, meaning more creatures had to be eaten to achieve the same effects as a regular portion of energon. But if it came to that, Waspinator could make do. 

He wasn’t used to anything edible looking, or smelling, like this. He wandered past the tables, paying no heed to the humans that froze and stared at him as he went, to examine what had been put out on the long tables, open to anyone for consumption. He wasn’t sure he liked the look of it. None of it even remotely resembled the earth creatures he was used to consuming, either. 

Well… Waspinator was here for new experiences. And it would be better to experiment now, before he was low on fuel, than later when he needed it desperately.

He copied some humans he saw retrieving their own food (before they saw him and backed far away, that is) and procured a disc to load up. He took small samples of as many different kinds as he could fit, and then found a place to eat. He wouldn’t make the same mistake as the previous night—he found a table and moved the chair out of the way, intending to sit on the floor instead. He was still high up enough to reach his food.

Most of it was completely unpalatable, some he couldn’t even get himself to swallow. As he worked his way through what he had on his disc, he started to despair. Was there nothing he could eat here? Maybe he could catch aquatic creatures in the water, if the humans hadn’t killed them all…

But finally, he found something that worked. The taste was fine, and his sensors told him it was similar enough to the earth creatures he used to eat that it would do the job, although he would have to eat a lot. It also had the added benefit of having no fur, and also coming in small self-contained packages that were easy to ingest. No liquid, and no mess.

Waspinator went back and filled up another of the discs with them. Very conveniently, as he made his way back to his table, a crewmember walked by.

“Excuse me,” he said, causing the human to jump. “Waspinator would like to know what this fuel is called.”

“Those are chicken nuggets,” the human said, giving Waspinator’s small mound of foodstuffs a strange look.

“Thank you,” Waspinator said gleefully, and went back to his table. He could get used to these. Maybe he could bring some back to the Predacons to have Tarantulas reverse engineer them.

He couldn’t spend all day refueling, however. There was so much else to do! He hoped he could find something that might begin to make up for the loss of his collections.

* * *

 

The first thing Waspinator stumbled across that really caught his attention was the minigolf. 

He learned the name, and an approximation of the rules, from an attendant, who handed him some balls and a “club”. It seemed simple enough—he just needed to get the small balls into the slightly bigger holes using only his club. Waspinator was confident he could accomplish this.

The first hole looked simple enough. Just a straight line to the hole. Waspinator set his ball down, reared back the club, and let it go. It flew up and over the deck railing and into the ocean.

Okay. Well, he had more balls.

He ended up losing all the ones he had and going back for more, which were reluctantly given to him, and taking 6 very gentle swings before he got the ball into the hole. But once he did, Waspinator felt very proud of himself. Yes, he could do this just fine.

There were plenty of other humans playing this game as well. Full-sized humans, small humans. Waspinator hoped he could strike up a conversation with one as he moved through the game. It seemed like the perfect opportunity—everyone was having a good, leisurely time, and there was no better time to make a friend.

“Greetings, humans,” he said, as pleasantly as he was able, when he came to a patch of green he was waiting to use. There were three of them, two big ones and a small one, and they all looked very startled to see him. He could push past that, though, he hoped. He thought of conversation he’d heard from the entertainment system. “Nice weather today.”

The three humans all exchanged looks. “What do you want?” asked the biggest one cautiously.

That was very straightforward, but they always say you don’t get what you don’t ask for. “Waspinator wants to play minigolf and make friends,” he said. 

“Well, have at it,” the human said, and led his companions away from the hole.

They must not have heard the second part of Waspinator’s statement. He would keep trying.

And he did. He went along, completing the harder holes and speaking to humans, but all of them reacted negatively. It was baffling. Waspinator wasn’t doing anything threatening—he wasn’t waving around guns, or doing a creepy laugh like Tarantulas, or screaming like Terrorsaur. He couldn’t understand why none of these humans wanted to be friends with him.

Maybe they still needed time to get used to his presence. Or maybe minigolf was a game of quiet and concentration for humans.

Waspinator wasn’t going to give up that easily. The cruise was far from over, and by the end of it, he knew he was going to be relaxed and have a new human friend.

* * *

 

The next morning, as Waspinator wandered around the vessel, he found a sign below deck, next to a door. He still couldn’t read any of the signs, but the sign had a picture of a human in an interesting pose, looking very relaxed. It piqued his interest immediately.

The room had very little furniture in it. Mostly, it was open space with a cushy-looking covering on the floor and one wall covered with a big mirror. There were a few humans on the floor already, and one at the front of the room standing. When she saw him, she jumped. “Um, hello,” she said. “Are you here for yoga…?”

“Yes,” Waspinator answered quickly. He didn’t know what that was, but the picture looked nice. “What does Waspinator do for yoga?”

The human cleared her throat. “Well… We’re going to be starting the class in a few minutes, but you should… take a yoga mat, find a spot, and if you’d like, you can start stretching.” She motioned to a pile of rolled up pieces of squishy material. Waspinator took one and laid it out next to one of the other humans who was already on the floor. He gave Waspinator a wary look, but Waspinator didn’t pay that any mind. 

Instead, he tried to mimic what the human was doing. Arms up and down, neck rolled around, stretching out legs and feet, and Waspinator added his wings to this. One was still stiff and a little bit painful, but he hoped he would still be able to do this yoga without causing further pain.

Humans started filtering into the room, and as they took their mats and found a spot on the floor, they gave Waspinator plenty of room. It was nice that he wouldn’t have to worry about squishing anyone. A couple walked in and then went right back out; maybe they were lost, or decided they didn’t like yoga that much after all.

Waspinator hoped he would. The stretching he’d been doing was foreign to him, and he was much less flexible than the human was, but humans were also made of stretchier materials than metal. Still, it felt nice to try.

The human in charge came to stand at the front of the group that had gathered. “Alright, let’s get started,” she said. “Everyone, get to a standing position, and for a few moments I want you to just relax and breathe deeply in your stomach.”

Waspinator didn’t really breathe like organics did, but he tried to follow along as best he could. Arms up, bending over, lowering himself to the ground, and on it went. 

Yoga was strange, he decided. This was completely unlike anything any Cybertronians normally did. It wasn’t unpleasant, just odd. He felt a little bit silly at first, but everyone else was doing the same as him. He was the only one who had to be careful about wings, but the humans couldn’t really help that they had to go through life without them.

All in all, though, he thought he was doing pretty well. He didn’t really fit on the mat, so he might have scuffed the floor a few times, but that didn’t seem like such a big deal. 

It all came crashing down close to the end of the session. Or, more accurately, Waspinator did.

He was in an unnatural position to begin with—one arm and one leg connected with the floor, while the others were in the air, and Waspinator had to divide his attention between watching the instructor and watching himself. Then came a distraction—the room had a window, and a bird flew up to it and parked. It looked like it was watching them, just looking at what fools they were making of themselves, possibly. Waspinator wasn’t self-conscious about a lower life form like that seeing him in a silly pose, but it did take his attention off of himself long enough that he started to lose balance.

He scrambled desperately to right himself, but it was too late. Waspinator ended up on the floor. And, unfortunately, so did the person next to him.

The rest of the class jumped at his cry of alarm and pain, while Waspinator scrambled to get off him. He’d caught his already painful wing at a bad angle as well. The instructor ran to the wall and pressed a button. “We’re going to need first aid down here,” she said into a speaker, and then hurried over to assess the damage. Waspinator backed up to give her space, but she shot him a glare anyway.

“Where does it hurt?” she asked.

“My shoulder,” the human groaned.

“Waspinator is sorry,” he said weakly. He really hadn’t meant to do that.

“I think you should go,” the instructor said. 

Waspinator did, a little hunched in on himself. He really didn’t want to hurt anyone, and he felt bad about it. He’d enjoyed the yoga, but he probably wouldn’t be welcome back after this.

There were plenty of other things to do, of course. Plenty of other places to make friends. Waspinator just hoped he didn’t make a mess of all of them.

* * *

 

A day and a couple more mishaps later, Waspinator found his way to the massage place. He’d heard a human in the dining hall rave about how amazing hers was, so he decided it couldn’t hurt to try it. She’d claimed it made her back pain go away. Maybe it would be able to help his unhappy wing joint until he managed to get back into a CR chamber.

The bored-looking human at the front desk scanned his card at her computer and then directed him to a waiting area, where he stood and waited until someone called his name. 

“Mr. Wes…?” the human asked. 

“Waspinator,” Waspinator corrected.

“Oh. Alright,” he said. He was obviously startled, but he recovered quickly. “Well, my name is Kipper, and I’ll be your massage therapist for today. Although… I’m not sure how well I’ll be able to help you.”

Waspinator shrugged. “Waspinator just wants to try it,” he said. He wasn’t really expecting much besides a new experience.

“Well, we can definitely do that,” Kipper said. He led Waspinator into a small back room with a bed in the middle, and instructed Waspinator to lay down on his front. Waspinator did so carefully—the bed swayed worryingly, but Waspinator was able to settle down and stop moving without having it collapse on him. That was a good sign.

Kipper put on some unfamiliar but soothing earth music and then turned to Waspinator. “Are you having any pain?”

“Waspinator has hurt wing,” Waspinator said, and pointed to the wing in question. “Waspinator landed on it wrong.”

Kipper hummed as he gently took hold of the wing and started manipulating it around. First the hurt one, then the other, and then back to the first. “Yeah, I can feel that it’s stiff,” he said. “Well, I mean, I’ll see what I can do, but I make no promises. You’ll have to tell me if something is uncomfortable.”

That was fine. Waspinator laid his head down on the little headrest and just let Kipper do what he did. He didn’t start with the wings, which was a surprise. Instead he moved above, to Waspinator’s shoulders, and started rubbing circles into armor plating, first gently, and then with more force. “Can you even feel this?” he asked.

“Yes,” Waspinator sighed. The combination of the sensations and the music made him feel more relaxed already, which was a surprise. Why didn’t Cybertronians do this?

Kipper went down the length of his body like this, one side and then the other, since Waspinator was too big for him to do both at the same time. Only then did he start on Waspinator’s wing, rotating it in different directions and massaging the joint. There were times it didn’t feel good, but those times were fleeting and gave way to less pain overall. Kipper did the other wing too, for good measure.

“So, how are you enjoying the cruise?” he asked conversationally.

“Waspinator is enjoying it,” he answered, but he didn’t sound very convinced even to his own audio receptors.

“You sound kinda bummed,” Kipper said. “What’s up?”

A pause, then a pout. “Waspinator keeps causing problems,” he said. “Waspinator wanted to make friends, but everyone is afraid of Waspinator.”

“Aw, I’m sure that’s not true. You seem like a cool guy,” Kipper said soothingly as he massaged Waspinator’s plating.

“It is true,” Waspinator said, sounding miserable. “Nobody sits with Waspinator. Nobody talks to Waspinator. All humans are afraid. And Waspinator makes mistakes…”

“Like what?”

“Waspinator jumped into pool and splashed water everywhere,” he said. “And broke a ping pong table.”

“Well, those were just mistakes, right? You shouldn’t be judged just on that,” Kipper said.

Waspinator shrugged, as much as he was able. Even though he felt discouraged, it felt good to talk about it, on top of the very relaxing massage. “Maybe Waspinator should stop trying,” he frowned.

Kipper hummed, contemplating his answer. “Hey, I work on cruise ships a lot. You’d be surprised the kind of people that go on them. A lot of people are lonely, and hope that being in a luxurious place like this will make them feel less lonely. It doesn’t really work,” he said. “I bet you there’s someone out there who needs a friend just as much as you do. You just have to find them.”

Waspinator took a few minutes to think about that. He didn’t know how he would find them. Maybe make signs advertising his eligibility for friendship? That seemed like something the other Predacons would mock him relentlessly for, but they weren’t here right now. They would never know.

“Kipper is not afraid of Waspinator?” he asked.

“Well, I have to admit I was startled when I first saw you,” he said. “But the crew told us you were around, so it wasn’t a complete shock.”

Hmm. “Would Kipper like to be friends with Waspinator?”

Kipper chuckled. “We’re supposed to keep our relationships with customers professional,” he said. “But you can always come back for another massage later.”

Waspinator just might do that, he thought as he relaxed and waited for it to be over. He’d never experienced anything like this, but he liked it, and his wing felt better, and his spirits were raised after talking to Kipper. This human wasn’t afraid of him, and thought he could make a friend. He just needed to find another one.

The massage came to an end, and Waspinator tried to get off the table as carefully as possible. He didn’t do a great job of it—a piece of armor got caught on the table, and when he tried to jerk it free, the whole thing collapsed, and he came crashing down on top of it. Waspinator felt bad about it, and Kipper grimaced (Waspinator was getting better at understanding human expressions, thanks to the video entertainment he watched at night), but the human still walked him out and wished him luck.

Despite the fall, Waspinator felt much better after that. If there was one human that wasn’t afraid of him, there had to be another. He just needed to find someone who wanted a friend as much as he did.

* * *

 

Unfortunately, it wasn’t that simple. 

Waspinator tried. He really did try! But nothing seemed to go his way. He’d started out with renewed confidence, trying his hand at whatever seemed interesting and talking to anyone who would talk to him. It just never seemed to work out.

Waspinator tried going to movies, but he scared a small human by his very presence. He tried the casino, but they kicked him out once they realized that people weren’t coming in because he was there. He knocked over an ice sculpture in the art exhibit room. 

They’d stopped at a port and allowed everyone to look around, and Waspinator didn’t even have any luck there. He’d tried to have a conversation with someone selling souvenirs, but the human assumed he was trying to steal something and called local law enforcement, who then dumped him back at the ship. They let him back on, but Waspinator got the feeling they were hoping to have been able to leave him behind.

Now, he was camped out in an aquarium. It was nice and calming in there—the tanks were huge, taking up entire walls, and were lit up, displaying bright colors as opposed to the dim light used for the rest of the room. It was never very crowded, either. Waspinator stood back and just stared into the biggest one, which was taller than he was, quietly watching the aquatic creatures swim around. At first he thought it was strange to keep creatures like this in boxes when all they could do was swim, but now he liked it.

The fish weren’t scared of Waspinator. They didn’t run from him, and as long as he didn’t touch any tanks, there was nothing for him to break. Maybe he was better off down here in the low light than out there trying to talk to humans. 

The door opened, unleashing a flood of light into the room for just a moment. Three humans entered. Two were normal-looking small humans. It took Waspinator a moment to understand what was happening with the third. She was sitting, but in a chair that had big wheels on it, and one of the others pushed her along. She was hunched over a little, and was more wrinkly and fragile-looking than most of the humans Waspinator had seen.

The two smaller humans whispered to each other as they pushed the chair around and finally in front of the biggest and most colorful tank. “Is this okay, Grandma? Can we go now?” asked the taller of the two small ones.

Grandma muttered to herself. “Yes, fine,” she finally said. “Just don’t take too long.”

“We won’t!” the smaller of them exclaimed, and the two of them ran out of the room, leaving the human in the chair on her own.

She sat there for a while, doing much the same as Waspinator was—just staring at the creatures in the tank, transfixed. Once a few minutes went by, she turned her head to look at one of the other tanks. It was a little bit behind her, though, so she had to hold her head at an odd angle. She probably would have liked to be wheeled over to it so she could look properly.

Waspinator made a small noise to announce his presence, then spoke. “Hello? Does Grandma want some help?”

The human looked at him sharply. “Who are you? Are you mocking me?”

“Waspinator did not mean to,” Waspinator said, shrinking back. He’d done it again, hadn’t he?

Grandma gave him a long, hard look. “Waspinator, huh? I’ve seen you. In the dining hall,” she said. “Going around scaring people for no good reason—all you big robots are the same.”

“Waspinator does not want to scare anyone,” he protested. “Waspinator is trying to be friendly.”

“Hmm,” she hummed, then paused. “Alright. You want to be friendly? Push me over to that tank.” She pointed in the direction she wanted to go, and Waspinator scrambled to obey. He took hold of the handles on the back of the chair and, ever so gently, directed it to where the human wanted. 

“Is this good?” Waspinator asked, hopeful.

“It’s fine,” she said.

Waspinator was overjoyed. He’d done something right! He’d just had a positive interaction with a human, and he hadn’t done anything wrong yet, he didn’t think! He had to keep this going, and scrambled for something to say.

“Is Grandma enjoying the cruise?” he asked, thinking of the conversation he’d had with Kipper.

She snorted humorlessly. “My name is Sylvia,” she scolded, then sighed. “It’s alright, as far as cruises go. My kids and grandkids make me come on these every year, for a family vacation, but they all have more fun than I do. And I don’t think they really like having to tow me around with them, either.”

“Small humans are Sylvia’s offspring?” Waspinator guessed.

“My grandsons,” she answered. Waspinator wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, but he got the picture. “They couldn’t wait to go to the pool today, so now I guess I’ll be here until they get finished.” She said nothing for a few moments, just looking up at the tank. “It isn’t so bad, I suppose. I always did like aquariums.”

She sounded a little bit sad once she stopped being stern, Waspinator realized. Maybe she wanted a friend too. But he was almost afraid to hope for that—what if she didn’t like him, in the end?

“Waspinator came here to relax and have fun,” Waspinator shared. “Waspinator works a lot, and work friends aren’t very nice. But Waspinator keeps making mistakes on the cruise.”

“What kind of mistakes?” she asked, sounding slightly suspicious.

“Waspinator broke tables and chairs by accident, and scared people,” he said. “And ate too many chicken nuggets.” A respectful but firm crewmember had escorted him from the dining hall for that one. He was allowed back in, of course, but apparently three mounds was too many for one time.

Sylvia chuckled, which surprised and delighted Waspinator. “That sounds like something my grandson would say,” she said. “These things aren’t really built for robots, are they? Even though you are smaller than the ones on the news.”

Waspinator just nodded. He hadn’t had anyone question his allegiance lately, but he would rather avoid conversations about whatever Cybertronians were currently living on the earth. 

An idea struck him. “Would Sylvia like to go somewhere else?” he asked. “Waspinator can take her.”

“You don’t want to spend all day carting around an old woman,” she said, waving him off.

“Waspinator would be happy to,” he said as earnestly as he could. “Waspinator has nothing else to do.”

She paused, then looked up at him—and it was a long way up, for her. Waspinator found himself hunching over slightly, trying to make himself shorter. “Well, there’s supposed to be a bingo game in half an hour or so,” she suggested, hesitantly.

Waspinator had no idea what bingo was, but the offer thrilled him nonetheless. “Can Sylvia teach Waspinator how to play bingo?” he asked.

“Robots don’t have bingo? Shameful,” she said, but it sounded like she was more cheerful now. “It isn’t hard. I think you’ll like it.” 

So, Waspinator wheeled her out of the aquarium (very carefully) and followed her directions so that they ended up in a big, spacious room, and she taught him to play bingo. They played many games, and Waspinator even won one of them, and got a soft toy as a prize that Sylvia called a teddy bear. Waspinator knew he would treasure it always.

They were out and strolling through the halls when someone called out. “Mom!” a human gasped, and the both of them turned to see someone frozen behind them, looking conflicted. “What are you doing with—uh…” She stopped and tried again. “You disappeared from the aquarium!”

“Oh, that. Fish get boring. I went to play bingo,” she said, waving her offspring off. “I’m perfectly fine, you can go back to whatever you were doing.”

“We were looking everywhere for you, Mom,” the human said, and took a tentative steps forward. “If—if you want to go somewhere, I can take you, you don’t need to rely on…”

Sylvia rolled her eyes. “Don’t bother. We can meet back up for dinner,” she said. “You go on and do your things. I’m talking to my friend.” She gestured up at Waspinator, and he felt like his internals were going to explode from joy. He’d done it!

“But—” the human started.

“No buts,” Sylvia said sharply. “Come on, Wasp. Let’s go to the deck.”

Waspinator was more than happy to take her there.

* * *

 

Eventually the cruise came to an end. No vacation lasted forever, even when you found yourself inexplicably dropped into the future (but also still the past, from your perspective? This was too much for Waspinator’s processors.). 

The last couple of days had been wonderful. He and Sylvia had spent a lot of time together, taking walks, talking, playing more bingo, and even going to see a couple of movies. She made disapproving commentary the entire time, but Waspinator enjoyed the whole experience thoroughly.

He would be sorry to see her go.

He’d had to get a new bag in the vessel’s store, but this one didn’t have to be as big, since he just had a few things to put in it. His folder of maps and papers that he wanted to keep, his teddy bear, a few chicken nuggets that he’d smuggled out of the dining hall—it all fit nicely into his new bag, which was now slung over his shoulder as he waited in line with Sylvia and her family to disembark from the ship.

“So. Where do you live, Waspinator?” asked one of Sylvia’s offspring with a strained smile. She’d introduced him to most of her family, but there were so many names to remember.

“Um,” Waspinator said. “Waspinator lives on the earth.”

That got him a few blank looks. “Close to here…?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Waspinator lives close to here.” Probably, anyway, location-wise. Or not? He had no idea.

The further they got in the line, the closer Waspinator was to having to say goodbye, and it was an inevitable sadness. Even with all the mishaps, this vacation had been much more fun than being back with the Predacons and being used as Maximal bait.

And then, finally, they were off the ship and on dry ground. Sylvia motioned for him to come closer, so he crouched down to be in a more comfortable position for him to converse with. “It was very nice meeting you, Wasp,” she said. A thrill ran through him every time she called him that—he had a nickname! “You should come on another cruise next year.”

“Waspinator would like that,” he said, even though he knew Megatron was never going to allow it. That was, assuming he made it back in the first place.

Then, Sylvia reached into the pocket of her sweater and pulled out a little card. “I don’t know if robots use e-mail, but my kids made me get one. You can write me, if you’d like,” she said, and handed it to him. Waspinator took it ever so gently, and after peering at the small, neat handwriting that he couldn’t read, deposited it in his bag along with the rest of his new possessions. He would find a way to use this e-mail, whatever it was.

“Waspinator will try,” he said eagerly. “Thank you for being a friend to Waspinator.” His vents hitched, and after a moment’s hesitation, he wrapped his arms around Sylvia’s chair. “Waspinator will miss Sylvia.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” she said firmly, but still gave his helm a pat. “Have a good trip home, Wasp.”

“Sylvia too,” Waspinator said, and waved as her family took her away.

* * *

 

Thanks to the massage, Waspinator’s wing felt much better, and he found that he was able to fly just fine. The lack of the extra weight from his first bag probably didn’t hurt, either. So, he jumped into the sky and started flying around the coast.

He really didn’t have much of a plan. He found the place he thought he’d been deposited, but found nothing out of the ordinary. No whirlpools there at the moment. With no other ideas, though, he just started flying around aimlessly over the water, hoping something would turn up.

And, surprisingly, it did, just as he was starting to feel discouraged. It was much farther away from the beach this time, but Waspinator flew over to it and looked inside, and it seemed to be the same phenomenon as before.

He hadn’t learned his lesson, apparently, because he flew too close and found himself being sucked in just as before.

This time the swirling water deposited him on the bottom of the ocean, and he had to make his way back to shore by walking. He was suddenly glad he’d bought a waterproof bag, and hoped that nothing inside would get wet. He also hoped he wouldn’t be transported even farther into the future, because he had no plans for what to do if that happened.

Waspinator walked onto the beach and looked around. It certainly  _ looked _ like the earth he was used to. He didn’t know exactly where he was, but the buildings and the humans were all gone, replaced with vegetation as far as the optic could see.

He took to the air, and just as he was trying to get his bearings, a missile came out of nowhere and barely missed him. Then came a growl of frustration from Cheetor at having missed.

Waspinator grinned in spite of himself, even as he fled. He had made it home. 

And, he’d done exactly what he’d set out to do. He had a nice relaxing vacation, with no fighting, and he’d made a friend. Now, the next time he got blown to bits, he’d have a lot of nice memories to think back on while he reassembled himself. 

**Author's Note:**

> hello, I would like to start a new genre of fanfiction that's just waspinator going on vacation, please.
> 
> [here's a link to a tumblr post!](https://miniconsuffrage.tumblr.com/post/174027721843/waspinators-big-vacation-miniconsuffrage)


End file.
